Imperfect
by Autumn Moon Fae
Summary: "Pepper isn't perfect. Virginia was, and so was Potts, but Pepper isn't perfect: she does blush when he steps off the plane (as if he owns the place, and to be fair he probably does) and her mouth does fall open, and she does put her hand in front of her face just so he doesn't see her idiotic grin." Set during IM1. Oneshot, more or less.


**Disclaimer: ...sure, sure...**

**A/N: So...more Pepperony, because I can't seem to write anything else. And yes, I will update Weapon. As soon as my Weapon muse arouses from its slumber of death. In other words, eventually. :( **

**(Can you feel the guilt?)**

**Right! So, this one's from Pepper's POV throughout the first half of IM1, which was both difficult and incredibly fun to write. Tell me what you think. And I'm looking for a better title, so if you have any suggestions please let me know!**

* * *

**Imperfect**

She's in the backseat. He hops out of the car. Pristine suit. Perfect hair. Overpriced amber sunglasses covering eyes that are, to Potts, completely underpriced. Worth more than the shades and sold for ten times less.

Mr. Stark was never very good at grasping the idea of a savings account.

She gets out after him. Chin up, better to glare at the women draping themselves over her boss. They sneer their contempt over his shoulder. Potts crosses her arms, tilts her head. Rolls her eyes. Heels, pencil skirt, blouse, smartphone already out because she's getting a call for work.

When is it ever for anything else?

Never, that's when.

* * *

Potts sighs. He tosses a wave at Stane and a stack of trademark smirks at the giggling army. Swings into the car, runs a hand through his slicked back hair.

At least the passenger seat is empty.

She snaps, "Enjoy yourself?"

And then he has the _nerve_ to throw around comments like "You know none of those chicks could hold a candle to you, Pep" (Oh? So this is why he leaves her following him from a distance, apologizing to the people he brushes off and 'doesn't remember'?) and "I have a meeting at five tomorrow? What would I do without you" (What you already do, of course. Just with less money and more sex.) and "You know what you need, Potts? Hot clothes. I mean you're a stunner in that, imagine what you could do with –"

"In your dreams, Stark."

* * *

"Do you even have a life?"

"_Being _my life, Mr. Stark, you tell me."

"Ohh, that sounded so sexy…"

Potts feels the unwanted warmth creep up under her eyes. "Should I have said 'cleaning up after you'? I would have chosen that, but it sounded too devastatingly true."

"…touché."

"Maybe I do have a life," Potts says almost hotly. "Maybe I'm a spy dealing Stark weaponry to some nowhere in Siberia. Maybe I'm an assassin using you to decimate the female population of the US. Who can tell?"

* * *

No, Potts does not like her boss.

She wraps her cold hands around her cup of coffee.

Think how complicated things could get if she did. And Potts tends to overthink things.

It's better this way.

Isn't it?

* * *

"Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark appears to require assistance in the laboratory."

Potts groans. Her hands fly up to her eyes and her thumbs rub their lids. "Is it urgent?"

Stark's voice comes over. "Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Be down in a few," she says shortly.

She shows ID and the door opens.

Cue mental "Oh God."

Potts is professional. Hell, she has to be working for a man like Stark. So her reaction is just a deep breath – inhale, exhale.

Fire extinguisher foam all over the place. Couple steel beams dangling from their cables. Scorch marks on the walls. He's lying about eight feet to her left.

"Mr. Stark?" Potts prides herself on the cool, even tone of her voice. Raised eyebrows. Slight amusement.

An audible sigh. Relief. Stark breathes, "Pepper."

And _Pepper_ catches her breath at the sound of his voice.

* * *

"And how did this happen again?" Damn the idiot who invented blushing.

Stark grimaces. Pepper massages her temples. He clears his throat. "Ummmmiscalculation? Don't look at me like that, I haven't slept in the last…"

"Believe me, Mr. Stark, your nocturnal activities are of absolutely no interest –"

"…three days, I think. Working on the Jericho plans." The project of the month. One he's serious about. Pepper narrows her eyes. Trying to outdo one's father is one thing. Going three days with no sleep for one's stupid male ego is another.

She presses her lips together. "If you won't go to the hospital, you'll have to help yourself I guess."

"It's not as bad as it looks."

"Sure. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"Tony," he says. "Call me Tony."

Again: "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

He won't push it too far. "That will be all, Ms. Potts."

* * *

Now he's Tony, not Mr. Stark.

And so it's Tony, not Mr. Stark, who leaves for Afghanistan. Tony who forgets her birthday. Tony who gets on the plane.

It was her birthday, after all. She snapped at him, she showed Everhart out the door, and she told him he had to get on the plane because this demo was not something he could afford to miss.

And so it's Tony who gets caught in the explosion. Tony whose body can't be found. Tony who goes missing for a three-month-long nightmare.

It was only a weapons demonstration.

He could have missed it.

* * *

She stands next to Obadiah. Chin up, better to glare at the flashing cameras. This is Tony's scene, not hers. Pepper crosses her arms, tilts her head. Rolls her eyes at some comments. Heels, pencil skirt, blouse, smartphone already out because she checks it for news from Rhodey roughly every fifteen seconds.

When will she stop checking?

Never, that's when.

* * *

"Ms. Potts!"

No new messages, except a memo from Jarvis. No missed calls. It's ridiculous – how could she miss any calls? She checks the thing every fifteen seconds.

"It's _so great _to see you again!"

"Christine Everhart. Brown." Minus the mike, thank God. Pepper pulls up a smile because she knows Everhart knows it's forced.

"You remembered."

More of a smile now. "Of course. After all, our meeting was so auspicious. How could I forget?"

She doesn't choose to respond. Pity. Pepper needs some time to be ruthless.

"So, Ms. Potts. How has Stark Industries dealt with the disappearance of Mr. Stark?"

"You don't have to pretend, Ms. Everhart. Call him Tony." She shrugs. "Don't you all?"

Everhart takes a little step back. Guilty triumph. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't be afraid. You are, after all, among friends." She looks up, wide-eyed (Seriously?) and almost nervous. "I have to keep track, you know. Ms. Williams. Ms. Lopez. Ms. – Garcia, wasn't it?"

Everhart's completely forgotten the interview. "Jealousy, Ms. Potts?"

"Please." She changes topic. It's not professional. "This is what you can tell your magazine. SI is managing well. Less original designs. Still holding out that Stark'll come back."

"Is that SI, or you?"

"Being a part of Stark Industries, Ms. Everhart, both."

* * *

Pepper isn't perfect. Virginia was, and so was Potts, but Pepper isn't perfect: she does blush when he steps off the plane (as if he owns the place, and to be fair he probably does) and her mouth does fall open, and she does put her hand in front of her face just so he doesn't see her idiotic grin.

Yes, he steps off the plane, and he looks like he's been through hell and back, and he looksstraight at her. Walks right up to her. To Pepper, not Virginia Potts.

Because Tony isn't perfect either.

And it is then that Pepper realizes just how much she loves Tony Stark.


End file.
